It used to be that every decade or so Kodak would come out with a new film format calculated to sell lots of cameras and film to snapshooters spooked by the apparent complexity of 35mm cameras. They started with the Instamatic (126) cartridge in 1963, went on to the Pocket Instamatic (110) cartridge in 1972, and then unleashed the abominable Disc Camera in 1982. For the latest (and probably final) go-around, Kodak realized that they could no longer dictate formats by themselves. So in 1996 they joined with leading Japanese camera makers to produce the “Advanced Photo System,” or APS.

At first glance APS seems appealing. It’s based on a little cartridge that holds 24mm-wide film. You just drop it into the camera, which lets you select any of three different sizes of print for each picture. And processed negatives are safely sealed in the little cartridge, so you don’t have to worry about handling negatives.

But a closer look reveals few real advantages over 35mm. The newest 35mm cameras also have simple loading. Before they got out of the 35mm camera market, Kodak sold a line of inexpensive EasyLoad 35mm cameras that, as the name implies, were as easy to load as APS. APS cameras can be very small and light, but not much more so than the smallest 35mm point-and-shoots. APS film and processing also cost more than 35mm.

Most of the touted advantages of APS really aren’t advantages at all. While the latest films allow decent small prints from 24mm negatives, you’re still sacrificing image quality. It may not matter much if you only put the 10x15cm prints in your photo album, but it may become significant if you ever want to enlarge some of your favorite pictures.

A more serious problem relates to the “advantage” of having negatives sealed up in the cartridge after processing. While this may prevent possible damage from handling, it also prevents you from easily looking at the negatives. Since the quality of photofinishing in the U.S. is far too often inexcusably atrocious, it’s essential to be able to examine negatives so you can tell whether the fault is with the camera or with the lab. It’s much easier to demand a new print when you can show the clerk that the dark, gray “underexposed” picture was actually a nice dense negative. There’s no easy way to do that with APS. Processors do provide an “index print” with thumbnail images of each frame as a way to select pictures for re-printing, but many labs also offer this for 35mm. It’s convenient enough to be worth getting.

Aside from the technical concerns, I have other misgivings about snapshooter formats du jour. Back in 1972, I thought the 110 Pocket Instamatic was a good idea. The top-of-the-line Pocket Instamatic 60 was a clever little camera with a rangefinder and a sharp f/2.7 lens. While the 16mm Kodacolor II negative film wasn’t so great— grain was visible even on the standard small prints— Kodachrome showed what the format was capable of. The slides, in special 30x30mm plastic mounts intended for cute, tiny Pocket Carousel slide trays, had amazing quality when projected on a large screen in a special Pocket Carousel projector. The pictures in my Europe Through the Front Door galleries were all made from 1970s-era 110 Kodachrome slides. Two very nice pictures of the Pont du Gard (#1 and #2) in France, as well as a picture of the Hana Highway on Maui, were also made from 110 slides.

Kodak discontinued the Pocket Carousel projectors in 1980, and discontinued all 110 slide film in 1982. A few years later the unique “Size K” battery for the original Pocket Instamatic cameras disappeared. I have a large collection of 110 slides in obsolete trays, which can only be projected in one obsolete projector for which neither replacement bulbs nor repairs are readily available. My Pocket Instamatic 60 camera is completely useless because the battery it needs no longer exists. But there really is no reason to use it. A 35mm point-and-shoot is more versatile, yields far better image quality, and isn’t much larger or heavier.

Kodak stopped making Disc film in 1998, and discontinued 126 film in 1999. Disc film is completely extinct, and not missed by anyone. 126 became extinct in April 2007 (after 44 years) when Ferrania discontinued Solaris FG200, the last remaining 126 film. APS film is still easily found in supermarkets and drugstores. But if it goes the way of its predecessors, you may have difficulty getting new prints from treasured negatives. Few if any of the ubiquitous one-hour mini-labs can process and print 110 film, which is still available, or make reprints of 126 or Disc negatives.

Each December, Popular Photography magazine includes an annual “Top Cameras” guide that’s a pretty good cross-section of the current market. The last time any APS camera appeared there was in 2001. APS SLRs are no longer made, and the small digital camera has completely replaced the APS point-and-shoot. The available APS cameras all seem to be simple, low-cost models, including disposable ones that sell in supermarkets alongside 35mm versions. This decline exactly mirrors what happened to 110 in the early 1980s.

For the reasons I’ve discussed, I have no interest in using my 30+-year-old Pocket Instamatic 60. However, I was quite surprised to learn that there still are genuine fans— and active users— of this camera. D. Scott Young has a detailed and very interesting description of the Pocket Instamatic 60, along with an equally comprehensive discussion of four other high-end 110 cameras.

If you have a Pocket Instamatic relegated to the closet for the want of an extinct “Size K” battery, Mr. Young also offers comprehensive illustrated instructions (“The K Factour” [sic]) for reloading the shells of dead K batteries with new cells. It looks like more trouble than it’s worth, but if you’re truly intent on using your old Pocket Instamatic it’s probably the only option.

I have an article about Scanning 110-Format Film (and Kodachrome), with tips and information based on my experience scanning numerous Kodachrome slides for the Europe Through the Front Door pages. Although I know of no easy way to scan 110 negatives, I do discuss the available options.

As of April 2008, two films remain available in 110 cartridges. Only Kodak Gold 400 in 24 exposures has (relatively) wide distribution. I’ve seen dusty boxes of it on the shelves of supermarkets and drugstores in my area of Southern California, but it’s often past its expiry date. The other option is Ferrania’s Solaris FG200 (ISO 200, 24 exposures). The Frugal Photographer stocks it, and says that Ferrania continues to manufacture it. I haven’t seen it anywhere else, but large chain supermarkets and discount stores reportedly sell it under their private labels. Fuji discontinued their 110 Superia 200 in 2003. Agfa no longer manufactures their Vista 200 or any other film, since they went bankrupt in 2005. And Konica-Minolta, which once sold Centuria 200 in 110, has discontinued all their photographic products.

Since the Pocket Instamatic 60 and its antique siblings are set only for ISO 80 film, Ferrania ISO 200 seems the best choice for them. Two and one-third stops of overexposure is theoretically within the latitude of Kodak Gold 400, but the negatives will be quite dense and possibly difficult to print (your local mini-lab probably can’t handle 110 anyway). Although the tiny 110 format is one case where the slightly better image quality of ISO 100 film would be genuinely beneficial, Kodak probably chose the 400 to avoid underexposure in the cheap meterless cameras that are the last of the 110 breed.

Some 110 cameras from the late 1970s have a switch that detects a little plastic ridge on the right edge of the cartridge. The ridge sets the meter to “low speed,” which Kodak never officially defined but was usually ISO 80 for the original version of Kodacolor II. Kodacolor 400 cartridges of that era lacked this ridge, so they set the meter to “high speed” (ISO 400). For some unknown reason Kodak’s current ISO 400 Gold cartridges have a ridge, so you’ll need to remove it with a nail clipper if you have one of those cameras. The original design of the 110 cartridge included a system of small notches on the front of the bottom lip of the cartridge to indicate a range of film speeds. The older 126 cartridge had a similar system. Kodak “notched” its 110 cartridges in the 1970s, but neither Kodak nor any other manufacturer ever made cameras that could read the notches.